


Easter Eggs

by Jlocked, The_Lady_of_Purpletown



Series: Draculus rubeus [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breeding like rabbits, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dragons, Easter, Easter Bunnies, Eggs, Fluff, Gen, Hogwarts, New Friends, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, or rather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-20 21:37:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3666087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jlocked/pseuds/Jlocked, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_of_Purpletown/pseuds/The_Lady_of_Purpletown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s almost time for the Easter holiday when a strange little egg is found in the castle. Could this have something to do with Hogwarts’ newest inhabitants?<br/>An Easter special of five days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> To make sense of this story, we advise you to read _Christmas Has Been Cancelled_ first.

Dennis was running down the steps as fast as he could. The Quidditch team was practising and since the sky was so incredibly blue today, he wanted to get some pictures. For his brother. Not that Colin would ever see them, of course, but Dennis liked taking pictures of things and imagining telling Colin about them. It made it feel like he wasn’t really gone.

It had been nice having Colin around as a ghost, but Dennis understood why he had had to move on. And he was proud that his brother had been one of the first of the battle-ghosts to do it.

Suddenly his foot slipped and he stumbled. As he flew through the air down towards the hard stone floor below, he just had time to think that he might be seeing Colin soon, when something grabbed him by the hair and pulled. And by the arms, the back and the legs. A lot of somethings, clinging to his clothes. He slowed down and when he hit the floor, it didn’t hurt at all.

“Thank you,” he said, rolling onto his back and smiling up at all the little dragons hovering above him. “You guys are really strong. For your size.” One of them, Molly, judging by the colour of her wings, fluttered down and landed on his chest, studying him intently as if checking he was really okay.

Dennis reached up and patted her on the head. She crooned softly and then took off, fluttering out the window.

Dennis got to his knees and looked around for his camera. He couldn’t see it, so he crawled over to check behind the two suits of armour standing, or rather slouching, by the wall. No camera, but instead he spotted something small, round and very colourful. An Easter egg. Just like the ones dad used to give to him and Colin.

Eagerly he picked it up, only to realise that the sparkly, colourful surface wasn’t foil or paper. And it was definitely not made of chocolate. It was too heavy and too hard. But too light to be a stone. He gasped and almost dropped it in surprise as he realised that it must be a real egg. A tiny dragon egg.

He glanced around, worried that the mother might spot him and attack, just like some aggressive birds would do when you got too close to their nest. But there was none in sight. Slowly he got to his feet, holding the egg carefully with both hands. Maybe he should tell somebody… Show it to someone…

As he was walking slowly down the corridor, his very favourite teacher came into sight. “Professor Trelawney!” he called, hurrying towards her. “Professor Trelawney! Look what I found!”

As she saw the egg in his hands, she frowned. “Is that an Easter egg?” she asked.

“No, Professor,” Dennis said, beaming up at her. “I think it’s a dragon egg. A _Draculus rubeus_ egg.”

She bent down further, adjusted her glasses and squinted a little. Then she gasped and pulled back.

“Goodness me,” she cried. “You’re right. They’re… They’re breeding…”

To Dennis’ surprise, she looked more alarmed than excited.

“Are you okay, professor?” he asked.

“Yes… Yes… Of course,” she said, taking deep breaths as if to calm herself. “I’m fine. Thank you for showing me, Dennis. I think perhaps… Could you bring it up to my classroom for me? Give it to Winky?”

“Sure thing, Professor,” Dennis said, nodding eagerly. He liked Winky.

“Thank you,” Professor Trelawney said. “I’ll just go… fetch someone…”

Muttering to herself, she wandered off.

 

…

 

“No students! No class today!”

Dennis had only just opened the trap door to the Divination classroom when the small figure of Professor Trelawney’s elf came charging at him, screaming at the top of her screechy voice.

“No… Winky…” Dennis cried. “I’m not here for class. Professor Trelawney sent me. I’ve… I’ve got something for you.”

“For Winky?” the elf stepped back and blinked at him, clearly taken aback.

“Yes,” Dennis said, climbing the last steps into the classroom. Carefully he took the egg out of his pocket and showed it to her. “Look. It’s a dragon egg.”

“No….” Winky squeaked, covering her large eyes with her hands. “Nasty dragons not allowed in Mistress’ tower. Only Lavender may come up here.”

As she mentioned its name, the small dragon fluttered over and landed on Dennis’ shoulder, leaning forward to study the egg in his hand. She crooned and looked up at him questioningly.

Dennis shrugged. “I don’t know who laid it,” he said. “It wasn’t in a nest or anything. It just… lay there…”

Winky looked out between her fingers. “Is it… okay…?” she squeaked.

“I don’t know,” Dennis admitted. “I mean… Aren’t they supposed to be kept really hot? It’s kind of cool.”

Winky yelped and stormed out of the room, quickly followed by Lavender. A moment later she was back with a small cauldron. She held it out to Dennis. “Put egg in,” she urged. “Quickly.”

He did as he was told and watched anxiously as Winky hurried over to the fireplace. She put the cauldron next to the flames and then wrung her hands nervously. “I hope it’s okay…” she muttered. “Little baby…”

Lavender keened and landed on the edge of the cauldron, studying the egg inside.

 

…

 

Dennis wanted to stay and watch the egg, but soon Winky shooed him out, needing to clean before her Mistress returned. After one last look into the cauldron, he reluctantly went back down the ladder.

But soon he was rushing down the staircase below, eager to tell his friends about his discovery. He was in such a hurry that he actually stumbled again. This time, however, he wasn’t rescued by dragons, but tumbled head first into the arms of two seventh years.

“Oh… hi… Ginny,” he said, blushing. “I’m sorry…”

Ginny helped him back on his feet. “Are you okay, Dennis?” she asked, frowning slightly. “You almost looked like you were running from something.”

“I just fell,” he said. “But I’ve just seen the most amazing thing. Right here in the school. You’ll never guess what I found!”

“A dragon egg?” Hermione asked.

“No, a dra…” Dennis gasped and stared up at her. “How… How did you know?”

“I’ve been expecting it for days,” she said. “Oooh, I wish I had found it myself…”

Ginny poked her in the side. “Isn’t it enough you were the one to see that the dragons were courting? I think it’s great that you found it, Dennis.” She smiled at him and Dennis tried his best not to turn even more red. “Can we see it?”

“Oh…” Dennis’ smile faltered. “I don’t have it anymore. I showed it to Professor Trelawney and she made me give it to Winky. She’s keeping it warm…”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Hermione said. “Oh, Hagrid will be so proud! We should tell him right away. He’ll probably have a lot of advice for Winky.”

“You go to him,” Ginny said, shouldering her broom, which she had almost dropped when Dennis bumped into her. “I need a shower before dinner. Or…” She glanced around. “You can send Pig… If he isn’t off again, chasing dragons.”

Hermione smiled. “He does like playing with creatures of his own size. I’ll just rattle the owl treats tin and he’ll show up in a second.”

 

…

 

By dinner time, the tale of the egg had spread over the whole school and everyone was eagerly discussing which dragon had laid the egg and who the father might be. It seemed that most students had their own preferred pairings and a few Ravenclaw girls almost got into a fight over whether Cedric or Sirius was responsible.

But since the Headmistress was away (and both Hagrid and Professor Trelawney were missing from the teacher’s table) no official announcement was made about the egg or what would happen to it.


	2. Day 2

What a mess. Silly Lavender had been hovering near the fireplace all day and wouldn’t even let Winky near it. And when Mistress had returned, she had taken refuge in her private rooms, refusing to come out before the Headmistress returned.

Mistress was always so upset when Headmistress was away. And why did she have to leave so often? Couldn’t those bunglers at the Ministry do their own jobs? Why did they have to constantly bother the Hogwarts Headmistress? And distress poor Mistress.

And now the big man had shown up. Winky really didn’t mind him. He was always kind to elves and never made fun of Mistress. But he was so very large. And with that horrible coat on, he seemed to take up almost half of Mistress’ classroom. Every time he shrugged or turned around, chairs tumbled and tables fell. Winky was wearing herself out trying to pick up after him.

Though he wasn’t moving right now. He was kneeling next to the fire, studying the egg in the cauldron while talking to the head next to it. It was that handsome foreign young man. Boyfriend of that second Weasley boy. Winky had only seen him at the Christmas dinner, but he seemed an alright sort.

They were talking about the egg, using lots of strange and long words, but suddenly Professor Hagrid turned to her, sending two poufs skittering across the room.

“Winky, could yeh do us a favour?” he asked. “There’s a book in the library. _From Egg ter Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide_. Could yeh fetch it fer us? Jus’ tell Madam Pince it’s fer me.”

Torn between the desire to get out while that alarmingly large man was there and the urge to keep an eye on the room so that he wouldn’t actually break anything, Winky shifted nervously from foot to foot. Then Professor Hagrid smiled.

“Please, Winky?” he said. “It would be a great help.”

If he had ordered her, she couldn’t have said no. Even if she was Mistress’ special elf, she was still, ultimately, in service to the school. If he had ordered her, she would have had to go. But Hagrid never gave orders. He asked politely. And, though she would never admit it to anyone, Winky really, really liked that.

So she made a little curtsey and then hurried down the ladder. The corridor below seemed a little blurry. But there definitely weren’t any tears in her eyes. Just because being asked rather than ordered reminded her of an old friend, it wasn’t making her sentimental or anything.

To prove this point, the small elf began singing as she ran through the corridors, heading for the library.

 

…

 

“Yes, we have that one,” Madam Pince said, huffing as she struggled with the large, heavy book she was trying to get back up on the highest shelf of the Restricted Section, from which it kept hurtling itself 3½ minutes past midnight every third day. She told Winky the location of _From Egg to Inferno_ and then got out her wand, trying a new and improved sticking charm, that Professor Flitwick had taught her that morning.

Winky thanked her and hurried off between the rows of shelves. Why couldn’t Professor Hagrid have asked her for a different book? One that wasn’t placed on the middle shelf, which might be very convenient for students, but entirely too high up for an elf.

Careful not to harm any of the other books, Winky climbed up the shelves. There it was. A thick, pretty, green book with large purple letters on the spine. Pulling it out without losing her balance proved a bit tricky, but finally she was clutching the book to her side with one arm and was about to start her descent when she noticed something.

Right where _From Egg to Inferno_ had been, through the narrow gap in the other books, she saw a glimpse of sparkling gold and orange. Pressing her face against the books, she squinted, trying to make out a form. She already knew what it must be, but part of her still hoped she was mistaken.

But, alas, she was not. The small egg lay there, gleaming behind the books, looking almost cheery, as if it was mocking her.

Winky glanced around to see if anyone was near, Winky put _From Egg to Inferno_ on top of the other books and eased her thin arm through the gap. She could only just reach the egg with her fingertips and it almost rolled away from her. But she managed to get hold of it and pulled it out slowly. She tucked the egg safely inside her blouse, picked up the book and quickly clambered down.

Madam Pince almost tripped over Winky as she bolted from the library.

 

…

 

The castle that had seemed almost empty when she was going down to the library had now been invaded by chattering, laughing, shoving students. Winky had to dance and dodge her way through the many legs and she felt like she was constantly about to drop the egg. Finally she managed to seek refuge in a not-so-secret passage behind a large old tapestry.

She paused to catch her breath and then turned to head up the narrow stairs.

Her cry of horror rang through the corridor and suddenly everything went silent. Then there was a cacophony of shouts and running feet and the tapestry was torn to the side, almost falling off the wall.

“What’s wrong, Winky?” Mr Baddock cried, but then gasped as he saw it too. The steps, as far as they could see in the dim light, were littered with tiny sparkling eggs in every colour of the rainbow. And a few more, not usually found outside the Potions classroom.

“Oh, how pretty…” a young Hufflepuff exclaimed. “Do you… Do you think I could have one?”

“They’re not decorations,” Miss Lovegood said dreamily, crouching on the stairs to study the eggs. “They’re living things. We need to move them someplace warm.”

Miss Weasley appeared by her side and soon she had organised the others to help move the eggs to the nearest classroom, while Mr Peakes ran up to the North Tower to fetch Hagrid.

Through it all, Winky just stood there, not sure what to do. Handing over the egg inside her blouse never even occurred to her.


	3. Day 3

“Oh, thank you, Harry.” Luna patted the green-eyed dragon on the head and he let go of her left shoe. This time it had only ended up under the bed; her possessions didn’t go missing quite as often as a few years ago. But there was still a Harry around to help her look for them, which was nice.

“You must be so excited,” she said as she tied her laces. “I mean, _we_ ’re excited, and they’re not even our eggs.”

The dragon took off from the floor and landed on the door handle.

“Yes, I know.” Luna got up, opened the dormitory door and followed him out.

 

People were still finding eggs everywhere; common rooms, corridors, classrooms. Stewart Ackerley even found one between the boiled eggs on the breakfast table, which made Luna wonder if the house-elves were regularly checked for Wrackspurts.

“You should bring the egg to the third floor,” Stewart’s friend, who sat next to Luna, said. “They’re making a Hatchery up there.”

“A Hatchery?” Luna asked, interested. “They must have contacted the Ministry. They’ll have enough tips there from the time they were breeding Aquavirius Maggots.”

The boys gave her a strange look and then got up. Luna decided she might as well follow them if she wanted to see the Hatchery.

 

“Hello, Miss Lovegood,” a voice startled her suddenly on the stairs. It was Sir Nicholas, who was brushing transparent drops of sweat from his forehead.

“Hi, Nick,” she said cheerfully. “I thought ghosts weren’t bothered by high temperatures, except for heat produced by Heliopaths…”

“None of those around here, fortunately,” Nick said. “But the dragons are almost as bad. They keep escaping.”

Luna frowned. “Surely they don’t need to be imprisoned to take care of the eggs.”

“No, but if they all abandon them, they won’t hatch. At least, that’s what Hagrid says,” Nick explained.

“Is he sure?” she asked. “If their instinct is to leave the eggs behind, I’d think that’s what is best for them…”

“But the _Draculus rubeus_ is a breed created by magic,” Nick said. “According to Mr Huang, that might cause the dragons some confusion about their reproductive system.”

“ _I_ think they know what they’re doing,” Luna said. “But I suppose that getting a little more attention won’t damage the babies.”

They had now reached the cleared classroom on the third floor. A couple more ghosts greeted Luna as they floated past, and in the middle of the room she saw the large, colourful pile of eggs, around which the dragons were fluttering in agitation. Hagrid was now talking to Stewart and his friend, beaming at the blue egg that looked like a small bead in his hand.

“Careful!” Fred Weasley’s ghost shouted. “Remus is trying to get away again!”

The Grey Lady rushed over and stopped right in front of Luna, holding up her hand. Remus glared at her and returned to the pile of eggs.

“Isn’t the benefit of having the dragons brooding on the eggs cancelled out by your presence?” Luna wondered.

“Oh, no,” Nick said. “They produce quite a lot of heat, after all.”

“And Hagrid calculated at what distance we need to patrol the Hatchery to avoid negative effects,” the Lady added.

“I hope they’ll hatch before I go home for Easter,” Luna mused. “It’ll be marvellous to watch.”

 

…

 

She stayed to study the dragons’ behaviour around the eggs a little longer and sent a few of them back when they made for freedom, but in the short time she was there, around a dozen of them managed to get away with a string of ghosts chasing after them. It was quite amusing, yet her laughter didn’t seem to be appreciated.

Then, suddenly, Hagrid dropped everything (fortunately he wasn’t holding any eggs) and burst forward. “Shihui!” he called out. “Charlie!”

“Hagrid,” the young man cried out, holding out his arms to hug his old friend. His quiet companion offered a small smile, but was pulled right along with Charlie into a giant hug that left them both breathless.

“I’m so glad yer here,” Hagrid said, as he let them go. “It’s amazin’. The eggs jus’ keep turnin’ up. Come on over. See here.”

“Wow…” Charlie said, staring open-mouthed. “That is… That’s a lot of eggs…”

Shihui hurried over and dropped to his knees by the edge of the pile, shooing away Cho and Cedric so he could pick up a bright turquoise egg with little pink streaks. “Incredible,” he muttered. “Who would have thought… So soon after hatching…”

“Well, I heard they originated from one embryo that was not even viable,” Luna piped up. “It would make sense if that results in a shorter lifespan for all of them. Their metabolism will be quicker and they mature faster than any other kind of dragon.”

The room fell silent as even the little dragons stared at her. Then Shihui stood up. He bowed his head to her. “Yes, Miss,” he said. “That _does_ make sense. You have a very keen mind. And a great knowledge of magical creatures.”

“I’d like to be a Magizoologist,” Luna told him.

He smiled and nodded. “In that case, I do hope you will consider working with me as part of your training. Old as dragonkind may be, there are still so many new things to learn. As we have proof of right here.” He gestured to the pile of eggs and the _Draculi rubei_ who were beginning to stir again, fluttering up and squawking their indignation of being the subject of such conversation.

“Oh, that’s very kind of you,” Luna said, smiling, “but I’d rather do something more interesting. Like studying Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.”

Shihui stared at her for a moment, his eyes widening. “I… I’m sorry…” he began, but then Charlie put an arm around his shoulders.

“I’ll explain it to you,” he said, laughing as he led his confused partner away.

“Maybe yeh should give it some thought, Luna,” Hagrid said earnestly. “He’s _the_ expert in his field. An’ dragons really are very interestin’.”

She shrugged. “So are Snorkacks, and yet there are so few people who observe them. I feel there is more need for me there.”

Hagrid chuckled. “I guess _yer_ the expert on that one,” he said.


	4. Day 4

Hermione rubbed her eyes, feeling drowsy. Keeping watch over a bunch of dragons all night was a lot more exhausting than omitting sleep to study, but she and Ginny had happily offered Hagrid and the ghosts their help. Unfortunately, the dragons had kept waking each other up in their excitement, often flying up and sometimes screeching. She wondered if it was some kind of way to let the young know they were safe or that they could struggle to break out of the egg very soon now, but even Shihui had not known the answer to this question.

Around six in the morning, he and Charlie came to take over from her and Ginny. Hagrid, however, seemed determined to stand guard as long as it took for the dragons to hatch, even if he was just as puffy-eyed and pale.

Despite being so tired, Hermione gave Shihui her brightest smile as he arrived. She always felt she owed him an apology for the way Ron acted around him. It wasn’t that he was rude to his brother’s boyfriend. Instead, he was unnaturally polite and stiff to him in a way that reminded her of Percy, but seemed extremely awkward coming from Ron. It always left Shihui confused; he could, after all, see how goofy and spontaneous Ron was around all the others, and he must wonder what he had done to earn that treatment. The truth was, of course, that Ron was just an unbelievable idiot.

 

After napping for a couple of hours, she quietly left the dormitory, hoping not to wake Ginny. Immediately she made her way to the Great Hall, where luckily there was still some breakfast waiting.

Suddenly there was a loud bang, and Fred and Peeves flew through the door. “They’re hatching! They’re hatching!” they shouted.

Immediately she was on her feet, just like the other late risers, and they all ran off to the Hatchery. Where the pile of eggs was lying just as it had that morning. Hagrid, Charlie, Shihui and Professor McGonagall all stared at the hasty group of students in confusion.

“Fred said the eggs are hatching!” Hermione explained.

“They are,” Peeves said, appearing next to her ear with a pop.

“Soon!” Fred added, drifting through the floor with a wide grin.

Rolling their eyes and muttering in disappointment, most of the students turned on their heels to return to breakfast or start their day.

“Is there any way to know when they will hatch?” Hermione asked Shihui.

“The shells are hardening,” he said, picking up an egg and holding it out for her to feel. “A day or two before they hatch, they will have lost all…” He seemed to search for the word. “Suppleness.” He smiled and put the egg back down. “It seems the heat is speeding up the process. Left alone in the corridors, they could have been weeks or maybe even months.”

Hermione nodded; the shell hadn’t given much as she had pushed it gently with her finger. “So it won’t be long now?”

“Some may hatch within a few days,” he said. “Others could be weeks. It all depends on when they were laid, when they were collected and… possibly… the gender of the dragon inside.”

“We should note their properties and the date every time we see one of them hatch,” Hermione said eagerly. “You will have so much new information to work with.”

Shihui nodded. “Your Charms professor has helped me come up with a clever little spell that will measure, weigh and assess the health of the hatchling. But there are so many eggs. And in all likelihood many will hatch at almost the same time…” He ran a hand through his otherwise smooth and slick hair, making it stick out comically in all directions. “I don’t know how we’ll manage. I can’t bring my team here. We had just brought in three new Peruvian Vipertooths and there is some… unrest…”

Professor McGonagall frowned. “Would it be possible to bring the eggs to your team instead?”

“Oh no, Professor,” Hagrid cut in. “You can’t…”

“He is right,” Shihui said quickly. “There are strict laws regarding the transportation of magical creatures across borders.” He glanced at Charlie, who just grinned.

The Headmistress sighed. “I wish I could have returned sooner. The letters I received didn’t quite explain the extent of the situation that has arisen here - except for one, which I should probably have taken more seriously. I don’t suppose we can simply delay the hatching by keeping the eggs cool?”

“I’m afraid we do not know enough about _Draculi rubei_ yet,” Shihui said. “At this stage it could arrest their development completely. But it could also kill them.”

“No!” Hagrid cried. “We can’t hurt the babies… If there’s no room fer them here, they can… They can live in my hut. Until they’re grown and then they… Maybe… The Forest?” He gave Professor McGonagall a pleading look.

“Obviously I do not want to harm any of them,” Professor McGonagall said, and the fluttering dragons seemed to relax a little. “But look at how many eggs there are. However welcome the dragons were around Christmas, they still managed quite a lot of mischief, and that was when Hagrid had already started training them. And I doubt we can start the training right away, as I imagine they will need their parents at least in the first days.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Charlie said. “Being near the parents, I mean.” He gestured to the sulking dragons, hovering over the pile of eggs. “They clearly have no maternal instinct whatsoever. And the first generation grew up orphaned and turned out just fine, right?”

Professor McGonagall nodded slowly. “With expert help, yes,” she said, looking at Hagrid with something close to a smile.

Hagrid straightened up a little, glowing with pride.

“But Professor,” Hermione said, “Hagrid doesn’t need to do all the work when we are around. I mean, all the students like them, even if they didn’t quite trust the dragons in their dormitories at first. Perhaps some of us could even adopt an egg to make the hatching’s registration easier, and each training one dragon at a time would be more efficient…”

Professor McGonagall’s eyes started gleaming. “Very good, Miss Granger. If the students would like to take care of the hatchlings, they would also learn a lot about them,” she said. “They didn’t pose much of a danger, so even if they take the eggs home for the Easter holiday, I doubt the Ministry will raise objections. After all there is an exceptional amount of students who will not stay at Hogwarts this year... We could even return to our original plan for a Care of Magical Creatures project.” She looked up at Hagrid.

“That will certainly take care of the problems surrounding their hatching. And with Hagrid’s guidance, I’m sure the students will be very capable of training their own dragon.” Charlie looked around at them all. “But… What about the temperature? Won’t the castle get too hot with that many dragons about? I mean… There are clearly a lot less ghosts around than there were at Christmas.”

“But before we kept them in here for the eggs, I saw the dragons fly outside a lot more often than when it was colder,” Hermione said. “I think they want to keep the temperature agreeable for themselves, too.”

“Should there be a problem, we can still deal with it later,” Professor McGonagall decided with a small nod. “Hagrid, can you work out a short guide to dragon training for the students? I will announce our solution at lunch, so they can decide whether they want to take care of an egg or not.”

“Yes…” Hagrid said, nodding eagerly. “Of course, Professor.”

“We’ll help you,” Charlie said.

“Yes,” Shihui agreed. “I can include instructions on what to do when they hatch. So we will get the right data for all the eggs.”

“Splendid,” Professor McGonagall said. “If you’ll all excuse me, then, I believe I am rather late for a meeting with one of my teachers.” She picked up her bags from the floor, put them down again to shoo the handful of dragons that had been hiding in the creases, and then disappeared up the stairs.

As Hermione left too, she was smiling at the thought what Ron would say when she brought a dragon home. Surely Pigwidgeon would love little Norbert or Norberta.


	5. Day 5

Minerva sighed happily as she tightened her arm around Sybill’s waist. The younger woman didn’t seem to have had any bad dreams that night, which was quite a relief after the state Minerva had found her in the previous morning.

It had been very quiet in the North Tower when she had arrived there. Leaving her bags near the foot of the ladder - no use to drag them upstairs when she’d have to bring them to her own rooms later - she had entered to the sight of Winky sitting so close to the fire that Minerva was worried she’d burn herself. Surprisingly, the elf hadn’t run towards her to welcome her and offer her tea; in fact, it had seemed she didn’t notice her at all, fixed as she was on the small cauldron by the fire.

“Hello, Winky,” she had greeted, approaching to see what the elf was doing.

Winky didn’t turn, just shushed her and leaned even closer to the cauldron, peering intently into it.

Minerva decided to leave her be; perhaps Sybill had started developing her elf’s Inner Eye while she was gone. She had turned away and knocked on the door to Sybill’s bedroom, wondering if she would find her still asleep.

When no answer came, she had pushed the door open and entered. The blankets had indeed been bulged, but Sybill was completely hidden under them.

“Sybill?” Minerva said, but again, no reaction came. She gently pulled the blankets back, so her companion would at least get some air, but Sybill didn’t seem to notice.

“Sybill, wake up! It’s almost noon…”

The Divination teacher let out a snore, but didn’t open her eyes.

Minerva frowned. It was almost as though she was in a kind of enchanted sleep, but who would have given her a sleeping draught? She shook Sybill’s shoulder, but as she happily continued snoring, Minerva took out her wand and muttered a few words.

Sybill grunted and then blinked slowly. “You’re back?” She frowned, as if not quite believing her eyes.

“Of course I’m back,” Minerva said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I promised I’d return before the Hogwarts Express takes the students who’ll spend Easter at home. If it had been up to the Ministry, I’d still be there now…”

“I’m glad you’re not,” Sybill said, sitting up and pulling her into a close hug.

Minerva smiled, stroking Sybill’s back. “Why were you so fast asleep? What happened?”

“Eggs,” Sybill groaned, lying back down and pulling her pillow over her head. “All over the place.”

“Yes,” Minerva said, “I read as much in your letter. And I understand you’re not happy that more dragons will hatch, but… A lot of them are going outdoors these days. And you’re doing fine around them lately. Surely the eggs don’t make a difference as long as they’re still eggs?”

“I see the future, Minerva,” Sybill muttered from under the pillow. “Every time I look at one of those things, I see the menace it will become. It was driving me crazy.”

“I’d say it was driving you to sleep,” Minerva had said.

“Oh, that…” Sybill yawned. “That was just a little spell. One I learned when I was staying in London. Only… I didn’t time it. Figured you’d wake me up eventually.”

Minerva sighed. “You just slept until I’d be back to solve things? What about your lessons?”

Sybill shrugged. “I wasn’t fit to teach anyway. Why should I be awake and feeling awful when I could just sleep?”

Minerva took the pillow away so she could look at Sybill, but she didn’t feel like giving her a lecture. “Look, I’m not sending them away. The students are allowed to adopt one each, so they can be trained fast.”

“Run rampant, you mean…”

“The dragons prefer flying over running,” Minerva pointed out.

“Don’t mock me,” Sybill countered, glaring up at her. “There should be a law against those things. At least in those numbers.”

“We’ve been over this before,” Minerva said. “‘Those things’ saved us from freezing to death last winter. And that’s not all we have to thank them for.” She had given Sybill a meaningful look.

Sybill huffed. “Yeah, okay. They were very useful. But with spring coming on, we don’t really need them anymore, do we? We certainly don’t need _more_ of them.”

“They will only make the castle more pleasant next winter, and in the summer months, the students will probably take their new pets home. Meanwhile, the older dragons go to live outdoors. Besides, those who are adopted by seventh years won’t come back at all. You’ll barely notice the difference in the end.”

“They can’t bring them to my classes,” Sybill snapped. “I won’t have it. All those little beasts fluttering about, upsetting the spirits.”

Minerva nodded. “I doubt their presence would improve anyone’s concentration, so I will announce a rule that dragons are not to be brought to the lessons. The training should be taken care of in the students’ free time. Perhaps we can make some kind of nursery where the dragons can be kept from creating too much chaos while their ‘parent’ is attending class. Surely the ghosts will want to help.”

Sybill was still pouting, but Minerva had offered her her hand, smiling. “You know you won’t have to face them alone.” She had pulled Sybill up from the bed, told her to get dressed and then somehow even managed to make her join her for lunch in the Great Hall.

 

A lot of whispers and cheers had followed Minerva’s announcement about the dragon eggs’ fate. It looked like there would certainly be enough students interested in taking an egg, and if they had to disappoint someone, she was sure they’d have their chance next spring. Seventh years would get priority. The rest of the afternoon had been spent taking down the names of students, assigning them an egg along with one of the leaflets Hagrid, Mr Huang and Mr Weasley had made, and ensuring that those students who wanted to go home got to the station in time.

Hagrid was allowed to keep three of the eggs to take care of and study, but Minerva made sure not to tell Sybill that. There was no need to worry her about them.

 

And now Sybill was warm and soft in her arms, still half asleep. Minerva couldn’t imagine a better way to start the Easter holiday.

Suddenly there was a loud squeal and the door banged open. “Empty… Mistress… It’s empty!” Winky cried as she bolted across the room, swinging the still steaming cauldron in one hand.

Sybill sat up. “What, Winky?” she gasped. “What’s empty?”

“Winky’s egg…” Winky wailed. “Winky was only gone for a minute. To put on the kettle and then… Look!”

She held up the cauldron so they could both see the empty shell of the egg, neatly broken in half.

“You… You had an egg?” Minerva said, staring at the elf. Of course. Hagrid had told her that he had collected the egg that Dennis had originally given to Winky, but that was long before Minerva had returned. And still, Winky had been watching something heating by the fire… But Minerva had been in such a rush to find Sybill that she hadn’t given it any more thought.

“Yes…” Winky sat down and began sobbing. “Winky took good care of it… Winky was going to have her own baby dragon…”

Suddenly Sybill screamed and scrambled to the other side of the bed, dragging Minerva in front of her.

Something was crawling out from under the dresser. Something long and flat and woolly. Something grey with silver stripes.

Frowning, Winky picked it up. “It’s… It’s a sock…” she said, staring at the wriggling thing.

“I doubt the egg has hatched a sock,” Minerva said, moving over to look, while Sybill was still clinging to her. “It’s one of Sybill’s, actually. But her socks don’t usually come alive…”

She reached out to the bedside table and took her wand. “ _Revelio_!”

The sock flew through the room, leaving behind a tiny, brownish dragon on Winky’s palm. It blinked its large green eyes and tilted its head.

Winky’s squeal was one of happiness. “Dobby…” she cried. “Dobby is free!”

Minerva smiled. “You must have taken very good care of this egg. Little Dobby is probably the first dragon to hatch this year.”

Sybill groaned. “Good job, Winky,” she said. “You are a very… clever elf…” She leaned closer and whispered in Minerva’s ear: “Does she have to keep it? Here?”

“She’s called it Dobby,” Minerva answered, smiling. “I doubt she’ll let it go. It can be friends with Lavender, right?”

“Yes,” Winky squeaked. “Dobby and Lavender will be best of friends. But first…” She hugged the tiny dragon to her chest. “First Winky will show Dobby something very special. She will show where Master Harry Potter used to sleep. And she will tell Dobby all about the other Dobby. The bravest elf that ever lived.”

And with that, she puttered off, crooning to the little dragon which answered her in an even higher pitch.

Minerva took Sybill’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“I guess… Dobby… will have to stay,” Sybill said, leaning her head on Minerva’s shoulder. “I just hope it won’t be as rebellious…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter!


End file.
